


The Price Of Flowers

by ilovelocust



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Established Keith/Shiro, Focus Keith, Hanahaki's disease, M/M, Modern AU, Pining Lance (Voltron), Unreliable Narrator, Victim Blaming, Viewpoint Keith, emotional blackmail
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-15 07:56:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13026630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilovelocust/pseuds/ilovelocust
Summary: Lance loves Keith. Keith is in a relationship with Shiro. Lance develops Hanahaki's disease. Lance thinks this should change things, but what about what Keith thinks?





	1. Fate's Messenger

**Author's Note:**

> This first chapter is Lance's PoV, but all future chapters will be from Keith's perspective.
> 
> The first eight chapters of this fic are already written. I will be posting them once a day until I run out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you follow me on tumblr, you've heard me talking about this fic. Yeah, it's that one. The one with emotional blackmail.

The farmer’s daughter artfully sprawls by the pond. Choosing to meet her end on the same grassy banks she’d first laid eyes on the handsome Prince. Ruby red petals spill from her lips, as she uses her dying breaths to proclaim her absence of regrets that her deepest yearnings have left her to the ill fate of the Lover’s Curse. The vines may steal the air from her lungs, but she will pass on knowing that she has been blessed to feel more profoundly than any other.

Tears prickle the corners of Lance’s eyes. He’s seen the scene a hundred times, but even knowing the Prince is only moments away from bursting free of the forest to reveal that her true love is requited, lifting her curse, cannot take the power from her words. The movie came from a time when people dared to believe in Love. When people didn’t try to cure their feelings with scalpels and doctors but with declarations of passion. A time when people truly understood the devotions of the heart.

Lance was meant for another era. If he was so lucky as to be the host of flowers. He wouldn’t cast aside fates messenger so casually. He would treasure it as the gift it was. An affirmation that his feelings were no mere crush to be tossed aside but the most pure form of love imaginable. Ones so great the universe itself chose to bless them with physical form.

Somebody snickers beside him, Lance scowls at the interruption. Keith’s muffling any further noise with his hand, but Shiro continues to whisper something in his ear. Probably mocking the emotions portrayed on the film for cheap laughs. Some people just couldn’t appreciate something so deep and meaningful. Needing to tear it down, to make up for something lacking in their own courtship. If he’d been granted the same opportunity, he would not have wasted it so casually. He’d have built upon the romantic setting to enchant Keith instead of dismissing it.

The music picks up. The Kiss! Lance looks back just as the Prince holds the Farmer’s Daughter in his arms and kisses her like the Queen she will be. His heart swells. At least in one place, things happen as they should.

-

Keith’s laughter is like the sweetest of music. Genuine and from the heart, all the more valuable for how hard it can be to elicit. Lance is swept up in the sound. Bolstered in knowing he did that, he’s responsible for that joy. It’s almost enough that he can forget while Keith is laughing at his jokes, Shiro’s arm is the one wrapped around Keith’s shoulders.

Shiro says adds on, and Keith stops laughing for him. Attention breaking away so he can smile up at Shiro instead. Jealousy isn’t responsible for the burning in his chest, his emotions are not so low. This is the ache of longing he feels. The slight bite of memories from a time when Keith had given him the same soft smiles.

When Shiro’s was lost for all those months, he and Keith had gotten so close. Lance had been there to remind him to leave his room, to show up for classes, to eat something not from a microwave. He’d been a rock of stability for Keith, when he’d been set adrift, with enough humor to make sure that Keith still laughed. When Shiro hadn’t been there for Keith, Lance had.

The waitress shows them to their table. He and Hunk on one side, Shiro and Keith on the other. Keith is no longer smiling. That wouldn’t happen if he was the one on that side of the table. If Lance were allowed, he would give Keith the world. Take him out dancing, serenade him in front of his building late at night, show him the joys of spontaneous walks in the rain. If he could, Keith would never stop smiling for him, because he’d never let Keith be unhappy. 

Knowing how good they could be together, makes their separation all the more painful. If Keith was just a little less loyal, his dreams could be their reality.

When Shiro came back from the war scarred and missing an arm, Keith had dropped everything and glued himself to the man’s side. Some would have backed down presented with their once handsome boyfriend beaten down, but Keith was too good of a person to end the relationship right after a tragedy. He’d left Lance behind, taking a break from school to help Shiro recover. Lance had gone from eating lunch with Keith everyday, to not seeing him for four whole months, and when he had seen him again? The strain had been written across all his features. Keith’s eyes had been black with lack of sleep, hair a mess. His expressions tired. He’d never looked worse.

Keith wasn’t the type to share his feeling. Even when they were close, insight into his thoughts had come more as outbursts that Keith couldn’t suppress than quiet conversation, but Lance payed attention. He saw the look on Keith’s face, when Pidge had spoken quietly to him about how to deal with Shiro and Matt’s trauma. The look hadn’t been full of joy like it should be when discussing someone you were dating.

The burning in Lance’s chest increases as Keith began to talk of his classes. Ones he no longer shares with Lance. One more reminder of what Keith had given up. It simply wasn’t fair. Keith was young. He should be enjoying his life to its fullest. Shiro was a good guy, but Keith shouldn’t feel as if he has to let everything else slide just to take care of Shiro.

He should have confessed when he had the chance, before they found Shiro and brought him back. Lance should have opened his heart and said those three little words. They could have gotten together, and then Keith wouldn’t have felt obligated to resume his relationship with Shiro. Now it was too late. Keith will never leave Shiro, no matter how much it takes from him.

The emotions stick in Lance’s throat. Choking down his words. He wants to spill everything on the table. Tell Keith the truth give him a chance, but he can’t not here, not now, “I’ll be right back,” Lance stands excusing himself. He walks quickly towards the men’s room. A few moments to collect himself, then he can go back and be the goofy guy everyone loves. The bathroom door swings shut behind him. Right now it’s too much, though. He feels as if he could gag on it all. 

Lance breathes deep and chokes. Something is actually sticking in his throat. He grabs hold of the counter as his coughing nearly doubles him over. Whatever it is, it is stuck good, but even though it brings tears to his eyes. He slowly hacks it up. Something coppery enters his mouth, and Lance spits it into the sink.

Lance looks down and freezes. It can’t be. It’s so rare. No one in his family has ever experienced it, but rubbing his eyes doesn’t dispel the image. Contrasting against the pure white porcelain of the sink lies Fate’s calling card, in the form of a single blood red petal.

 

-  
_  
**Hanahaki’s Disease:**_

_A rare disease that afflicts humans who pine for somebody they think does not return their feelings. Its only symptom is the growth of flowers and vines in the patient’s lungs. If left untreated it will eventually suffocate the individual._

_There are two known treatments: convincing the patient their feelings are requited and surgical removal. Both treatments have their own side effects. Requited love will reverse the symptoms of the disease, but if the patient later loses that love, the disease can reappear stronger than before. Surgical removal has no chance for relapse, but causes the patient to lose all feelings for the subject of their affections._

_Deciding on the best course of treatment is a decision best left between the patient and their doctor._


	2. Early Morning Happiness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith and Shiro share a sleepy morning together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now, for Keith.

Early morning sun drifts in, kissing warmth into Keith’s exposed skin. He’s alone. The bed’s other resident long ago disappeared. The sheets cool were he once lay, but that only leaves more space to sprawl. More spots to let the siren call of the mattress’s softness trap Keith’s sleepy limbs and whisper just a little longer. He could give in, snooze his day away, but another contender vies for Keith’s attention. The sound of sizzling and popping floats in from the other room on the scent of freshly cooked bacon. A delicious promise of reward if he gets up.

Keith groans and stretches. He tries to blindly fish for his discarded clothes off the side of the bed, before giving in and opening his eyes. Somehow his shirt has ended up in a rumpled pile in the corner and his pants have disappeared off the face of the earth. That’s the problem with getting overly excited when stripping down, things tend to get flung to the most inconvenient places.

Oh well, Shiro will just have to deal with seeing Keith in his boxers. It’s far too early to for a clothing hunt. Such a hardship, he knows. Keith rolls out of bed and heads towards the bedroom door. You know if he was smart he’d remember to stash an extra set of clothes over here so this would stop happening. They’ve been dating long enough. Of course, then he’d lose one of his big excuses to just steal some of Shiro’s. Decisions, decisions.

Far too perky for this early in the day, Shiro is already up and standing over the stove, like the sweatpants and t-shirt clad god he is. Keith beelines for his back and throws his arms around his waist. Happily attaching himself to his muscles like the world’s most content barnacle, “Morning Sunshine,” Shiro says, his smile audible in his voice, “How’d you sleep?”

“Like a baby,” Keith says. He’d only woken once, when he heard Shiro muttering with what he’d worried was bad dreams. Turns out Shiro was only trying to convince some dream elephants to eat there broccoli, though. It had been a pleasant surprise to find his concerns side tracked by such an innocent explanation. A sign of how much things had improved these last two years.

There had been a time, only a month or so after Shiro had been rescued, where neither of them could count on such good fortune. Shiro had been plagued by nightmares seemingly every night. Dreams of faceless captors and far to real memories. Keith had woken to screaming more times than he could count. Some dark days he’d thought Shiro might never know peace again, but Shiro’s therapist had been right. Time and treatment had helped. There was still the days were something would set Shiro off and he could hardly close his eyes without remembering, but those were now outnumbered by the weeks where he had no nightmares at all. He’d never forget how lucky they were.

Shiro squeezes Keith’s hand, pulling him from his thoughts, “I made eggs, sunny side up, just like you like them,” Shiro shifts, sliding two eggs out of the frying pan and onto a plate already prepped with bacon, “Why don’t you go sit down and I’ll join you in a moment.” Keith grumbles, mostly for show at being forced to move, but grabs the plate anyways. He has to walk all of five feet to reach the small round table, Shiro had so happily squeezed into his tiny apartment. It makes an excellent place to enjoy the view of his boyfriend’s domesticity, so he hardly minds his own role to play in its acquisition.

They’d had so much trouble getting this thing up the stairs and through the door, but some foolish student had just been tossing it out for the garbage man to trash. They simply had to salvage it. When they’d finally gotten it in here and arranged the perfect spot, they’d been so proud. It might be dented in a few places and have a bit of a wobbly leg, but they found it together and it was free. What more could you ask for?

Shiro sits down with his own plate, and Keith immediately hooks his foot behind the man’s ankle, stroking up his calf. Shiro’s long suffering smile is a lie, Keith’s not the one who initiates games of footies when they are out with friends. He’s hardly the only one who can’t keep his body parts to himself, “So,” Shiro says, daring Keith to go farther by pretending there is something more important to think about this morning, “Hunk called me this morning, apparently you weren’t responding to your phone.”

Keith shrugs. Leaning back oh so casually, as his foot moves higher, “We were busy at the time,” That’s where his pants went! He’d tossed them into the bathroom, because the phone buzzing in their pocket had been distracting Shiro from kissing further south. Considering how the night went, he’d obviously made the right decision, “So what did he want?” Keith’s foot switches to the inside track.

A dusting of pink highlights the scar on Shiro’s nose, “Right, um,” Shiro clears his throat. This is why everyone else is wrong, Shiro is clearly the more adorable of the pair of them. A big puppy shoved into the body of Adonis, “Hunk wanted to know if you were free this evening.” Shiro catches his foot, before he can have too much fun. The impromptu foot massage is a decent apology, “He and Lance had plans, but something came up and he was wondering if you could take his place?”

Keith frowns. Only partly at Shiro. His plans for tonight didn’t really qualify as plans. He was just going to head home, watch some tv, and maybe put in a few more hours on some of his video games, but homebody as that might be, that time was his people free stress relief time. Replacing it on such short notice with an event was draining just to think about.

“You should go,” Shiro squeezes his foot reassuringly, “You always have fun when you do.” There Shiro goes, encouraging Keith not to be a hermit for the rest of his life. It’s not like Shiro is wrong though. Keith may not like the idea of breaking up his people free time, but he wouldn’t be friends with Lance if he didn’t enjoy being around him.

“Alright, alright, I’ll get out of my shell and go be social,” Keith sighs dramatically. Shiro smiles fondly, and Keith doesn’t hold it against him. He needs the extra push to out and actually see his friends occasionally. He wouldn’t have nearly as many without Shiro’s encouragements.

“My phone is on, if it ends up being too terrible and you need an excuse to bounce,” Shiro says, and Keith can’t help smiling back. That’s the nice thing about being with someone who knows you so well. Shiro knew when Keith just needed the little extra help to maintain his friendships, and when to throw him a line to rescue him from too much stress.

“Alright, I’ll go phone Hunk to finalize plans.” Keith says, “But you know,” Keith looks down with a quirked eyebrow and intent, “Thirty minutes probably won’t make that much of a difference.”

“Is that, uh, so,” Shiro’s hands have gone still on his foot, “How were you thinking of spending that time?”

Keith pulls back, so he can stand. He walks over and tilts Shiro chin up for their first kiss of the morning, “I’ve got an idea or two,” Keith whispers.

“Yeah, Hunk can wait for a bit,” Shiro say, eyes going dark.

Really, Keith’s never had it better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So now you know why the fic has a unreliable narrator tag.


	3. What Goes Unsaid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith helps Hunk out by taking his place on an outing with Lance. Might there be some motivations Keith's missing on what he thinks is a purely platonic event?

Hunk is extremely grateful for Keith taking his place. Thanking him more than once over the phone before telling him when Lance will be by. It’s a little weird honestly. Hunk must have felt extremely bad about having dropped his plans with Lance to be so pleased.

Lance picks Keith up driving Hunk’s car, most likely another apology for ditching last minute. It hadn’t been strictly necessary. Keith could have taken them on his motorcycle, but the car did have the advantage of being much more GPS navigation friendly.

That being said, if they’d taken his bike, he’d actually know where they were going, “Seriously, I’m already in the car, it’s not like I can get out of this now. You can tell me,” Keith says, on round five of trying to convince Lance to spill the beans. Not that there is much hope of this time ending any differently than the last four rounds. Lance is by far the most stubborn member of their group. When he gets excited by something there is no talking him out of it.

“Nope, nope, nope, that would ruin the surprise,” Lance says with far too much excitement. Keith snorts, “Don’t worry you’re going to have fun, I promise. You can trust me.” Lance says grinning ear to ear, and are his eyebrows? How does somebody even move their eyebrows like that?

Keith crosses his arms, “Last time I trusted you, you picked that awful movie for us to watch,” He’s teasing, but also the melodrama really had been horrible. If they hadn’t been in a proper theater, he’s pretty sure the whole group of them would have been riffing the thing the whole way through. Probably would have improved the quality of the plot if they had.

“Hey!” Lance gasps, “I will have you know, that was a classic romance.” Lance takes a hand off the wheel to poke Keith for emphasis, “It’s not my fault your too uncultured to appreciate it.”

“It was a Disney wannabe at best,” Keith says, grinning. There is no way Lance is convincing him that that mess was a classic.

“Hmphh,” Lance turns up his nose, offended. Before Lance can come up with some biting response, he spots something in the distance and beams once again, “Hah!” Lance crows, “You’re going to eat your words. We’re here and this is going to be awesome.”

Lance pulls off into a dusty gravel parking lot, and Keith gets his first look at what he’s going to be spending the rest of his day doing.

A cheap metal building sits on the edge of some enclosed fields with what looks to be faux buildings, ramps, and various other interesting structure erected in the middle of them. Off in the distance is a forested area with a cheap wooden fort hidden behind some trees. Keith doesn’t even need to read the sign to know where he is now. Lance is right, this is going to be a blast. He hasn’t been paintballing in forever.

-

The final member of the enemy team rounds the corner, and Keith puts a yellow splash of paint across his mask before he even realizes who he has stumbled into. That’s game, and a good victory to end the day on.

“Wow,” Lance says from behind him. He looks nearly as surprised as the man who’d been shot does. Today had revealed that Lance had phenomenal aim at a distance, but up close he couldn’t match Keith’s finely honed, if a bit rusty, reaction times, “You’re really good at this,” Lance blurts out, almost like he hadn’t meant to say anything at all.

“Thanks,” Keith says, shoulder his paint gun and beginning the trudge back to the entrance, “I used to play in high school,” He and Shiro had spent many an exciting summer afternoon running around fields just like this one, “You’re not half bad yourself.” 

Lance had needed some help in the beginning. Figuring out how to breathe behind the mask without fogging up his glass and other newbie problems, but by the third game he’d been fully in the swing of things. They’d made a pretty good team. Certainly winning more games than they lost, and leaving Keith with only a minimal amount of bruises for Shiro to kiss better tonight.

That being said, Lance could really use getting more exercise. He’d gotten winded so easily today, any running at all and he was panting for breath, but then, maybe that had just been his allergies. He’d had some pretty impressive coughing fits between bouts. Keith would have thought he was coming down with something if Lance hadn’t told him otherwise.

There is small line forming in front of the equipment stall, as they cross the border for the playing field. Lance tugs off his mask, and he’s smiling, high on their win. Keith follows his lead, and he knows he’s smiling too. He’s glad he came, this had been a lot of fun. Much more so than watching a couple more episodes on Netflix would have been.

“You know,” Lance says, sounding almost sly, as they step in to wait their turn to return equipment, “We should come back here again sometime.”

That sounds like an excellent idea. Maybe next time he could bring Shiro with them. He’d have a ball getting a chance to play again, and with him and Keith on the same team, they really would dominate the entire field, “Sure, maybe next weekend?” Both he and Shiro should be free then. It didn’t seem possible, but Lance’s face lit up even more, “Shiro can come, and we’ll have a three man team.”

The light went out. Lance’s face falls, “Oh,” Lance says quietly.

Huh, what’s with that response. Did Lance and Shiro somehow have a falling out without him noticing? “Is that okay with you?” Keith asks, maybe it’s something else bothering him?

“No it’s fine, just,” Lance rubs the back of his neck, “Are you sure Shiro would want to do something like this?”

What an odd question, “Oh course he would,” Keith says, one of the worst things for Shiro while he was healing was how it limited his activity, “He loves this sort of thing.” Their mutual love of things like this was a big part of their bonding when they first met.

Lance’s expression doesn’t pick up with Keith’s assurance. They reach the front of the line, and the conversation is quickly dropped as they exchange equipment for driver’s licenses.

Lance doesn’t pick it back up until they are walking back to Hunk’s car, “The thing is,” Lance says suddenly, “There are so many guns, and you’re being shot at and…” Lance pauses obviously searching for the right words. Keith uses the time to remember what they were talking about in the first place. 

Lance starts again hesitantly, “I don’t know. After the whole thing with the war, sometimes Shiro has…problems. Like do you remember what happened at the 4th,” Keith does. Everyone had gotten together for the fourth of July to celebrate. Everything had been fine, but then Lance and Hunk had set off a rope of those little red firecrackers. The big displays and tiny light shows hadn’t bothered Shiro, but those little ones, those little ones had sounded a bit too much like gunfire. Keith had taken Shiro home early after that, and eventually he’d convinced Shiro that he really hadn’t minded. Shiro’s mental heal is far more important to him than some pretty lights he’s seen dozens of times before, “Sometimes he’s not okay with things that used to be fine.” Lance finishes lamely.

Keith bites back his first instinct to defensively snap at Lance. His little speech might not have been worded eloquently, but Lance’s concern for Shiro’s possible triggers is coming from a good place. Keith is not someone who gets to judge others for sticking their foot in their mouths, “Thank you for worrying about him,” Keith starts, thank then explain. Just like Shiro would, “But at the same time, you don’t need to worry,” Keith forces a reassuring smile, “Shiro will let me know if this will be too much for him to handle, and if he misjudges, we’ll just grab dinner early or head home instead,” Not that that is likely to happen. They’ve played laser tag since Shiro came back with little to no issues. Just because something has the possibility of being a trigger, doesn’t mean that it will be.

“Oh…Okay then,” Lance looks morose for a few seconds longer, then brightens up with a smile, “Well it’s not like it matters either way,” He waves his hands around as if to wave the whole matter away, “I’m busy next weekend, so we couldn’t meet up then anyways.” Lance unlocks the doors and gets in.

Keith crawls into the passenger side, “We’ll have to pick another date then.” He says. Though, he may still come back here with Shiro on his own next weekend. The nostalgia alone would be worth it.

“Yep,” Lance says, popping his p. He looks straight ahead and cranks up the music.

-

They don’t really speak as Lance drives him home. It’s a nice change to the constant chatter than normally accompanies Lance. A little silence to decompress in is a blessed relief after an outing, even if it is a bit of unusual behavior for his driver…Well that’s a thought to get stuck on. This was pretty weird for the typically loud mouthed Lance. There were times he thought the boy might explode if he had to be quiet for too long. Had he said something wrong? Or was Lance still worrying over Shiro?Should he even ask? 

They are friends sure, but they are not the type of close friends who share deep dark secrets. He’s fairly certain he’s never even shared what happened to his dad with Lance. If there positions were reversed, he’d likely hate it if Lance tried to pry into why he was in a mood. Sometimes people did want to bare their souls everyone in a nearby vicinity. Best to keep his questions to himself. Besides, his apartment was just up ahead. There wouldn’t really be time for that type of conversation anyways.

Lance pulls up to the curb and turns the music down, “Hey Keith,” Lance says.

Keith’s already out of his seatbelt and halfway out the door. He has to duck back down to respond, “Yeah?”

“I had a lot of fun today, did you?” Lance asks, and there is something pinched about his expression. Some subtext Keith knows he’s missing, but knowing doesn’t help him decipher it.

“I did,” Keith says, and then tacks on, “Thanks for inviting me.”

Lance nods, then sucks in a deep breath. Holding it like he’s working himself up to something, but he loses his nerve. Lance blows out the breath and slumps. Keith quirks his head, but doesn’t comment on it, “I’m going to head inside now,” Keith says.

Lance straightens up immediately, “Wait!” Lance says, Keith pauses, “I’ve got two tickets for a thing tomorrow. Will you come with me?”

A thing? Why would he be inviting Keith again? Isn’t this normally the sort of thing he does with Hunk? Oh…Oh, no wonder Lance is morose. His best friend is too busy for him. Well now he just feels bad for him. Pity is rarely appreciated, so Keith keeps it out of his eyes.  
“Sure, text me the details. If it’s after my classes, I’ll go.” Keith says. He waves as he steps away from the car. waving as he steps out. Hopefully that will cheer Lance up.

It does the trick, Lance springs back to his normal form at Keith’s words, “Alright! I’ll see you tomorrow then,” Lance waves back at him. There you go. Good deed of the week accomplished. He can go to sleep knowing he’s brightened up a friend’s day.

Keith walks into his apartment with a clear conscience.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well nice thing about going back to edit. All these chapters are getting larger and read better than when I first wrote them. Only downside is this editing is taking way longer than I expected it to. I’m going to keep the once a day update schedule, but I don’t know how much spare time I’m going to get to write newer chapters after I run out of buffer.


	4. Is Love Enough?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith goes out with Lance a second time.

Shiro had once told him that riding behind another guy could be a bit awkward for other men. Something about too much chest to back contact involved to hold on properly, making it weird. Shiro had never minded because he’d take any excuse to put his hands on Keith, but other guys, especially those who felt a bit insecure, might care quite a bit.

Thankfully, Lance wasn’t one of those guys. When Keith offered to drive him to the “thing”, sparing him having to ask Hunk to borrow his car again. Lance had agreed with enthusiasm. He’d texted Keith back with the address immediately, along with a time to stop by.

Which is how he ended up here, pulling up in front of the little house Lance and Hunk rented together. Keith kills the motor and kicks down his kickstand. Dropping his helmet on a handle before walking up the scraggly lawn. There was an unfamiliar car parked beside Hunk’s in the driveway. Company? Maybe that’s why Hunk had to abandon all his plans with Lance this week.

Like college housing everywhere, no one bothered to insulate when the residents couldn’t afford to move somewhere better anyways. A heated argument, no, no one sounds angry, more like a very loud impassioned discussion, drifts through the walls as Keith approaches. Most is lost to indistinctness, but the words “doesn’t work” “treatment” and “it will” were clear enough. Keith knocks extra hard on the door. He has no intentions of invading their privacy.

“He’s here!” Someone shouts, followed by the sound of thumping as someone rushes to the entrance. Lance throws open the door with a smile, “You made it!” Lance says stepping out and shutting the door quickly behind him. Keith only gets one look at Hunk’s pinched expression before his view is blocked, “Are you ready to go?” Lance says, already stepping off the front porch and heading out to the street.

Keith spins around and hurries to catch up, “You’re excited,” Keith observes. He’s pretty interested too, ever since he found out Lance’s thing was actually the space exhibition being put on by the local museum, but Lance looks half a beat from just running there himself.

“I’ve been looking forward to this for a while,” Lance says, picking up the spare helmet Keith had strapped to the back of his bike. The helmet is black, much like his own, except with a purple stylized kitten head on its back. His own has the same design in red. He and Shiro had bought them as a matching pair, after Shiro insisted on replacing his old ratty one. There may have been some commentary in there about Keith reminding Shiro of a cat, but even someone like Shiro was allowed to be wrong sometimes.

“Well I’ll make sure to get you there on time,” Keith clips his own helmet on and throws a leg over his bike. Without a moment’s hesitation, Lance slides in behind him. Wrapping his arms around Keith’s waist and holding on tight. Lance always does that, like he’s scared of falling off or something, “I’m pretty good at this, you don’t have to worry,” Keith assures him.

“I’m not worried,” Lance says. Not worried eh? Keith guns the engine, streaking off down the street. Lance shrieks, and Keith, well, good thing the helmet hides his grin.

-

It’s Friday afternoon, so the exhibit is pretty crowded. He’s grateful Lance’s pre-ordered tickets have them walking straight past the long line waiting outside to the exhibit proper. Absolutely nothing looks fun about sitting in line with a bunch of bored kids.

The inside of the exhibit is something else. Whoever put this thing together deserves a promotion. There isn’t one little dinky room set aside with a moon rock or two. The museum has dedicated a whole section to the display. Little signs point towards the various areas of interest, from the things astronomers had learned from the Hubble Telescope to the possibility of someday colonizing Mars. There is so much to see.

“So where do you want to go first?” Lance asks, stepping in close to Keith. Their shoulders bump with proximity, but in this crush of people it’s the only thing keeping them from getting seperated.

Keith examines his options carefully, but truly there is only one answer he was ever going to give. Something he has dreamed about since he was a child, and still does hope to accomplish some day. Keith’s face splits into a huge grin, a kid set free in the candy store, “Astronauts.”

Lance shakes his head, “You would,” Lance says, smiling almost fondly. He reaches for Keith, hesitates for a moment, then grabs Keith’s wrist, “Come on mullet, let’s go read about people that have heads even further out in space than you.” With a tug, they are off. Zig zagging through the crowd towards the first exhibit.

The exhibit is designed to progress through time. Guiding its viewer through the story of mankind’s trip to somewhere beyond the earth it was born on. It begins with Cosmo the first mammal in space, onto Neil Armstrong, to the first probe on Mars. Their journey temporarily stops at that portion of the exhibit, while Keith gets the chance to show off a lifetime of collected trivia to a group of excited six years olds. If there parents hadn’t come to collect them, he’d have happily stayed there most the day. It’s rare to find people outside of Shiro, who find what he has to say interesting.

It’s when they are leaving that display, heading towards a life sized model of a modern astronaut’s living quarters, that things start to get weird. Lance has been holding onto Keith wrist off an on for pretty much the entire time they’ve been here. Ostensibly, he’s doing so that they won’t get separated while wandering, but it’s while waiting behind the other patrons, that Lance does something strange. They’re standing in line and then Lance is slipping his hand down from Keith’s wrist to catch Keith’s hand with his own.

Keith stops trying to peek around the corner to get an early look, and glance down at their joined hands, “Umm, what are you doing?” Keith asks. He’s not the most socially aware, but he’s 99% certain this is a weird thing for male friends to do.

Lance’s looks away sheepishly, like he just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar, but he doesn’t move to change his grip, “It was getting a bit awkward to be holding your wrist all the time. I kinda looked like some control freak boyfriend scared to let you walk free,” Lance explains.

Maybe, he could see how they might give off that image, people thought all sorts of strange things, but the new grip was giving those people an equally inaccurate portrayal of their relationship, “Well, we’re in line now, so you don’t really need to hang onto me at all,” Keith says, shaking off Lance’s hand.

“I guess,” Lance says, rubbing the back of his head, “It was kinda nice though?” Lance looks up at Keith with expectant eyes.

Keith blanks. Nice? What did? Just what? “Uh, ok,” Keith says instead of anything more meaningful. The space before them opens and Keith seizes the distraction, “Hey look, it’s our turn. I’ve always wanted to go inside one of these,” Keith says hurriedly, stepping into the model.

If Lance is disappointed by Keith’s non-answer, Keith isn’t looking to see it, “Look at these beds, can you imagine having to sleep strapped in every night?” Keith says, trying to get them back on track for their fun evening.

“They must end up having pretty strange dreams,” Lance replies without enthusiasm.

“And here is where they store the freeze dried food. I loved this stuff as a kid, Dad used to buy it for me when he went into town,” Keith says without thinking, and now the awkwardness is being pushed back by memories of a time long gone. Dad’s old pickup rattling down the dirt road leading to their tin roofed shack. Hollering out for Keith to come help with their meager groceries, that still always managed to have a treat sneaked in for Keith.

He must stay quiet a moment too long, “They probably sell some in the gift shop.” Lance’s voice breaks the chain of memories, “I could buy you some if you like?” Lance offers, from right beside him. When did Lance step so close?

Keith shakes his head, “Nah, it fine,” He says, stepping out of the model. It’s lost a bit of its charm for the moment. Outside is there is a presentation on some of the challenges of space travel, with little graphs and pictures. A good diversion for his thoughts.

It’s pure chance that has him stopping in front of the display on Hanahaki’s disease. Seems NASA has avoided any of their astronauts becoming afflicted while in space, but as the possibility of long term manned missions to other planets in our solar system come closer to reality, they fear a real possibility of having that lucky streak broken. 

If someone where to hide their pining until the ship launched, long distance curing of the disease could be awfully tricky. Not everyone will have their vine growth destroyed or stalled by hearing a voice on the line saying they love you too. Leaving a high possibility of requiring surgical removal. No one wants to be the first person forced to perform lung surgery in zero-g.

“You know, when my grandma was young they used to call it the Lover’s Curse,” Lance says, hovering uncomfortably close once again. Keith’s heard of the disease referred to that way before, mostly by the elderly, “But she always said it should be called the Lover’s Blessing instead.” Keith quirks an eyebrow at Lance. He struggles to see how suffocating slowly because you are in love with someone that doesn’t love you back could be seen as a blessing.

“It’s true,” Lance says, not perturbed by Keith’s disbelief, “She said Hanahaki was a blessing, because if you had it, it meant that you really loved someone. People whose feelings are transient don’t develop the disease. Only those with true love in their hearts can catch it.” Lance is smiling softly, looking off as if he can’t see his grandmother spinning her tale.

“That’s why you should never get rid of it, she said. You’ve been given a gift from beyond and to throw it away would be the gravest of insults to your own feelings,” Keith doesn’t miss the supernatural tinge Lance puts to his explanation. Seeing how they still can’t figure out how someone catches the disease, it’s not exactly a rare belief that there is something more to it than a cold.

“But an insult is better than dying.” Keith points out. He has to, because nothing is sadder than those stories of young boys and girls slowly choking to death in a hospital because their crush panicked and ran, yet they still refuse to have those feelings removed.

Lance’s face grows serious, more serious than Keith has ever seen him. Blue eyes look straight into to his own, “When you love someone. Nothing is more important,” Lance says. Something about that statement rings true. Can he really call anyone out, considering his own feelings for Shiro? If the older man hadn’t loved him back and he’d developed the disease, could he have really walked into a hospital and had those feelings just cut out of his chest because they were impractical?

“I guess you’re right, in a way,” Keith says, “It’s not a simple problem.”

Lance relaxes a bit at Keith’s concession, “Of course I’m right, I’m always right,” Lance says with a cheeky grin. Keith lets him have his victory, and doesn’t point out he very clearly said, in a way, “Hey, why don’t we take a walk outside. There’s something I need to tell you, and I’d prefer somewhere with a few less people eavesdropping.”

They’ve already hit most of the things he wanted to see, so there is hardly a reason not to, “Sure, sounds good,” Keith says.

Lance doesn’t grab for his wrist or hand this time, and Keith appreciates that. They’ve had enough awkwardness for one evening.

Lance takes the lead, and guides them towards the closest exit that won’t set off an alarm. The fresh air outside is a nice change, as is the space. Keith feels a bit less like a human bowling pin than he had constantly trying to dodge people inside the exhibit.

Surprisingly, Lance doesn’t start speaking the second they are free of the crowd. If anything he seems a bit lost in his head. Keith knows what it’s like to try and get the words straight for something important, so he doesn’t push. Just picks a direction that looks nice and starts walking.

They make it two blocks before the bomb drops, “I have Hanahaki.”

Keith nearly trips over his feet, “What?” He must have misheard.

Lance stops walking and turns to Keith, “I have Hanahaki’s disease, the Lover’s Curse, I’m host to flowers,” Lance elaborates. Oh god.

“How? When?” How had he not noticed? How had no one noticed? No surely, others knew. Coughing up flowers wasn’t subtle, unless Lance just found out?

“I started seeing petals a while ago, but I guess I kinda always knew something like this might happen. I’ve felt this way for years.” Lance is scratching the back of his head again, as if admitting to a friend you have a potentially fatal disease is only something mildly embarrassing.

“You need to tell them. Whoever it is you need to tell them how you feel immediately. This is your life.” Keith’s reaching out, grabbing onto Lance’s shoulder for emphasis, barely holding off the urge to shake him. He’s not overreacting. Putting off telling your crush your feelings, is how young healthy men and women, with full lives ahead of them, end up dead on the sidewalk.

“I can’t just tell them. It’s more complicated than that,” Lance says, but he doesn’t shrug Keith off.

“Explain,” Maybe it’s as simple as distance. The person is too far away for Lance to just pop in and admit his feelings. If that’s the case, Keith will get Lance the money he needs. He doesn’t care if has to go begging door to door or sell off half his belongings. He doesn’t have many friends and he won’t let any of them die if there is anything he can do to prevent it. He’s already lost too many people.

“They don’t know that I like them,” Lance confesses, head sagging forward, “I’m worried about scaring them away by coming on too fast.” Okay, well yes, he can remember what that was like, but him dithering over telling Shiro that he meant more to him than just a friend wasn’t playing russian roulette with his life.

“Lance, look at me,” Keith waits until Lance is looks him in the eyes, “You won’t scare them away. If you care for them, give them a chance and tell them the truth. You may be pleasantly surprised.” That’s how these things went. The fear of rejection was almost always larger in your head than the actual possibility of it.

“Still…” Lance’s voice trails off, before he can even start.

“You’re a great guy Lance. You’re fun to be around, and they’d be an idiot not to want you,” Keith says, and it’s the truth. Whoever this person is will probably be flattered when Lance confesses. People love Lance, and it’s not every day that someone develops Hanahaki from pining for you.

“Thanks Keith,” Lance say. He grasps the hand Keith left on his shoulder, pulling it down to hang between them, “That’s what I needed to hear.”

Keith looks down at their clasped hands in confusion. Dejavu, why? “Keith, I’m in love with you.” Keith’s head jerks up, staring at Lance. He’s what? “I have been for years,” This has to be a joke, “Ever since we got so close while Shiro was gone.” An elaborate joke…There is not an ounce of humor in Lance’s eyes. He’s...He’s...Lance is serious.

“I’m in a relationship,” Keith says. The words feel numb on his lips, his head light like he’s in free fall with no ground in sight. He’s not prepared.

“I know. I know,” Lance says, pushing on. Unlike Keith, he’s had time, “And I was happy to wait for you. I know when he came back from all that it wasn’t a good time, so I kept quiet,” Lance squeezes Keith’s limp hand, “But circumstances have changed, and I love you Keith. I love you like no one else does. This disease, it just proves that. Proves that my feelings for you are something special. This is the universe’s sign we were meant to be.”

“I’m in a relationship, with Shiro,” Keith repeats, like the addition of two words will change the flow of events sweeping over him.

“Look,” Lance is searching for something in his expression he won’t find, “I know this is a lot to take in. I’m sorry, but this is our chance. I want to be with you Keith.” Words abandon Keith. There isn’t a response to any of this.

Lance lets go of his hand, “I’ve got my own ride home. You take some time to process everything, and I’ll call you back later, okay.” Lance gives him a quick hug, before stepping away.

“Okay,” Keith says. Maybe Lance waves goodbye, maybe he disappears in a puff of smoke. Keith can’t say which. Just at some point he’s alone on the sidewalk, and whatever stalled his systems decides to let go and let him panic.

Oh god, Lance is in love with him. Lance is dying. Lance is dying because he is in love with him. Lance is dying and instead of getting treatment he’s wasting time to go paintballing with Keith and hanging out at museums. Doesn’t he understand how serious his situation is? Why, why would he? Where these dates? He dating Shiro, Lance knows that. Why is he confessing to him? Why is he taking him out on dates? Why had no one talked to him about this. Hunk.

Hunk’s concerned face earlier. Letting Lance borrow his car for something that maybe Lance never planned to take anyone but Keith too. Hunk must know something.

His phone is out and dialing Hunk’s number in a flash. The line picks up, and Keith doesn’t wait on polite greetings, “Did you know about this? Did you know that Lance is dying?” He hisses, because there will be no misunderstanding what he is talking about. No beating around the bush. He will have answers.

“So he told you, then,” Hunk’s voice is tired, as if this is the inevitable conclusion of something he’s seen building miles away. He did know then.

“He told me he has Hanahaki’s and that he loves me. Why hasn’t he had them removed?” Keith’s only a decibel away from shouting, and he knows, he knows Hunk probably doesn’t deserve this. But he can’t stop himself. The dam has been broken and his emotions are now running free.

Hunk sighs, “Lance is old fashion. He doesn’t believe the flowers are something to be removed.” Hunk explains. His grandmother. A gift from beyond. Idle conversation, taking on horrible new meaning as statements of intent.

“I’m in a relationship,” Keith says, as if maybe third time will be the charm, “I don’t love Lance. I love Shiro. He has to see a doctor.” Surely Hunk can explain that to him. Pull him away from the fairy tail leading him over the edge.

“I know.” Hunk says, and he’s getting so tired of everyone else having already had time to think this all through, “I’ve tried telling him that, but he’s certain you’ll change your mind if you get a chance to see what a great guy he is.” There is a moment’s pause, before Hunk continues, “Look Keith, I’ll try talking to him again. Maybe he’ll listen this time, but I’m pretty sure he won’t. In the meantime, can..can you do me a favor?”

If it will get someone to talk so sense into Lance, he’d do anything, “What do you need?” Keith asks.

“Can you at least consider it?” What, Hunk too? “I know it’s a lot to ask, but he’s my best friend and I’m scared. I don’t, I don’t want to watch him die.” Hunk says in a rush, and the fear tinting his voice is too obvious to miss.

“Hunk…” What is he supposed to say?

“I know he may stick his foot in his mouth sometimes.” Hunk fills the silence, “But he’s a good guy, and he thinks the world of you. Please just, just give Lance a chance.”

“I...I...” He’ll what, leave the man he loves? Or maybe he’ll sit by while Lance dies. God what will he do, if Lance doesn’t change his mind?

“I have to go. Lance is calling,” Hunk says, “Goodbye Keith, and please think about it.” 

The call ends, and Keith is left alone with the unthinkable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the beginning of things going to crap for poor Keith. Things are going to get pretty rough for him the next couple chapters.


	5. Comfort And Fault

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith tells Shiro about Lance.

_Shiro, I’m coming over, please be home. I need you. **~ Keith**_

Shiro’s apartment is in an old brick building, that has existed since before the school was built. There are no shiny amenities to attract students looking for the college ‘experience’, but its roof doesn’t leak and the rent is reasonable enough for Shiro to live on his own. Shiro had found it when he decided to continue his education. Keith would have gladly let him live with him, but if there is one thing he could understand it was the need to prove to yourself that you could still stand on your own two feet.

Tonight he wishes they had decided to live together after all. Would everyone take his declarations of being in a relationship more seriously if they shared a rent? Did he just fail to prove he was sincere about loving Shiro and that’s why all this was happening?

Keith takes the stair two at a time, all but running through the stairwell door to reach Shiro’s floor. One turn down the hallway and there it is. Keith knocks, waits a second, then knocks again. Please be home. Please have gotten his text. When Shiro gets caught up with his study groups sometimes he doesn’t notice his phone has gone off until hours later. What will he do if tonight is one of those times?

Keith starts to knock one more time and the door swings open, “Hey, woah, I’m here. Takes a minute to get the door.” Shiro is standing in front of him. Dark jeans, his favorite vest, and sneakers still on. Like he’s just walked in. He must have rushed home when he received Keith’s text.

Keith pushes past him into the room, while Shiro shuts the door after him. Everything is still spinning, bouncing off the walls of his mind. Riding his motorcycle is usually a way to clear his head, but all it did was give him more time to connect the dots and realize how bad things really were. Keith stops by the counter, fist clenched tight enough for his nails to bite into his palm. Shiro’s soft footsteps come up behind him, “Lance is dying,” Keith says, hoarsely..

There is a sharp intake of breath, then Shiro’s flesh hand is touching his shoulder, “Oh babe,” Shiro says softly. Gentle pressure, a request for Keith to turn around. He does. Shiro’s hand slips up to cup his cheek, “I’m so sorry. I know he’s your friend.” He’s Shiro’s friend too, but Keith is upset and for Shiro that’s all that matters. How could someone ask Keith to give someone like this up?

“He told me today,” Keith says, ducking his head to press further into Shiro’s touch. Shiro strokes his cheek with his thumb, “He says it’s Hanahaki, and that I-I’m the cause.”

Shiro stops moving, “What?” Keith peeks through his bangs, Shiro’s mouth is hanging open in shock. Keith braces for something he couldn’t articulate even if asked. This, this is the sort of event that precedes all the worst times in his life, the things that leave him alone.

Shiro shakes free from his dumbfounded silence, “Lance is? Has he seen a surgeon? No, no,” Shiro shakes his head, “More importantly, are you okay?” Shiro’s big worried eyes look down at him in concern.

How is he? Everything is so much and what is he? How is he? Keith squeeze his eyes shut. That’s all Shiro needs to see. Keith finds himself being pulled into a hug. Folded in tight against Shiro’s chest, and allowed to just cling. 

They stay just like that, with Shiro’s steady breathing against his ear, until things straighten in his head enough that Keith can speak again, “Lance thinks having the disease means that we’re some kind of soulmates. Meant to be by the Universe or something,” Keith whispers, hiding his face against Shiro’s shirt, “Hunk says he’s refusing treatment. They both want me to break up with you.”

Shiro is silent. Keith’s pulse picks up. Is Shiro going to agree with Hunk? Is he going to think Keith should give Lance a chance? Does he think their relationship isn’t that important too? Shiro blows out a breath and squeezes Keith’s torso, bowing his head to kiss the top of Keith’s hair, “I’m sorry he put that on you. You don’t deserve to be placed in this position.” Shiro says quietly, “This doesn’t change anything. You don’t have to end any relationships or get into any that you don’t want to.”

Something unclenches in Keith’s gut. Shiro doesn’t want Keith to break up with him. He thinks their feelings towards each other mean something. Yet, “Lance is dying,” If Keith doesn’t begin a relationship with him, and Lance continues to refuse to get the flowers removed. He will die slowly and painfully.

“That’s not your fault,” Shiro says, as if he can read all the doubts swirling in Keith’s mind, “Lance is an adult. You can’t be responsible for decisions he makes on his own.” Shiro pets Keith’s hair as he speaks, “Even if what he decides to do kills him.” Shiro sighs. Each of Shiro’s words are a little drop of calming reason directly into his soul. This isn’t his fault. Lance makes his own decisions. 

“Besides,” Shiro says conspiratorially, “Lance isn’t going to die. Lots of people like to say they will hold out to the bitter end, but once things get a little worse, he’ll realize choking to death isn’t quite as romantic a way to go as he thinks it is.” He’s right. What was Keith thinking? Of course, Lance won’t actually go through with it. Lance says lots of things, but that doesn’t make them true.

“I feel dumb,” Keith pulls away, “Panicking like I did.”

Shiro’s hand slip to his waist but don’t let go. He finds himself okay with Shiro wanting to hang on just a little bit longer, “Don’t feel bad,” Shiro smiles feels like the first bit of sunshine on a rainy day. Keith let’s it wash over him, “That was a lot to have dumped on you. If someone had done that to me, you’d probably still be prying me off the ceiling.”

Keith snickers, “I doubt it. You’d have let them down easy, then walked them to the hospital yourself.” Honestly, it’s surprising that between the two of them. Keith is the one this happened to. Shiro is so easy to fall in love with. There should be dozens of people falling sick from pining for him.

“You severely overestimate my smoothness,” Shiro kisses the tip of his nose, and Keith tries not to laugh, “So do you think this bad day deserves hot chocolate and a movie?” Shiro asks, pulling Keith towards his beaten up couch.

Snuggling up with Shiro while sipping on something warm sounds like heaven right now, “Yeah, I think I could go for that.” Keith says. Shiro gives him a little shove and Keith topples onto the couch with a laugh.

“Then you pick something out, while I heat up the milk,” Shiro dips down for a proper kiss, before walking over to the kitchenette.

Keith grin doesn’t leave him for a long long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bright spot, because properly breaking somebody requires giving them hope first. Next chapter things will get worse again.


	6. Different Worlds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance calls Keith Back

Keith spends the night warm and happy, curled in Shiro’s arms. When the early morning sun peeks through Shiro’s window, it’s far too soon, but Keith rolls out of bed anyways. Shiro is volunteering with some sort of neighborhood give back program for most of the day, and Keith needs to get home to finish his homework assignments for the weekend. He’s feeling much better than when he rushed in last night, so when Shiro offers to cancel his plans and stick around for emotional support Keith turns him down.

They kiss goodbye on the sidewalk, and Keith’s zipping down the street heading home before the morning can even properly get started. His apartment is just how he left it. Back pack dropped by the door, dirty dishes in the sink from where he scarfed down something quick before heading out to pick up Lance. Nothing has changed to give physical form to the bombshell that went off yesterday. Keith tosses his matching pair of helmets onto the cabinet and settles in to study.

At first things are fine, math is a good distraction from life’s problems, but as math turns to history, worries start to worm their way in. Shiro has a certainty about him. When Shiro says something, no one can resist believing him. Keith is no different than anybody else in that respect. Last night, this morning, Keith was sure he had nothing to be concerned about. Lance wasn’t his responsibility and eventually he’d see reason and get the flowers removed, but now, with a little separation, he can’t help but think of those crummy romance movies Lance loves to watch, the ones he always refers to as ‘classics’.

The execution differs, but Hanahaki is always the final push the protagonist needs to confess their love. Sometimes they are rejected, sometimes their welcomed with open arms, but always their feelings are portrayed as something special. Even when they die the audience is meant to know that the tragedy is not in their death but that the person they loved didn’t realize they loved them back until they were already gone. Someone just not returning their feelings doesn’t happen, and talk of removal is only used to encourage the confession of reciprocation, not something that is ever meant to actually happen.

Lances watches those movies like Keith watches Shiro, constantly and with adoration. He’s a romantic who’s suddenly been thrust into a situation that parallels so many romantic plots. What if he isn’t going to come to his senses? What if he takes his dying breath thinking any second Keith will come bursting through the door to declare he’d always loved him too? Can he live with that? Attending a funeral. Watching Hunk cry his eyes out. Seeing the hole in their friend group his absence rips open?

No, stop thinking like that. Shiro’s right. Lance is an adult. He knows the difference between a piece of fiction and the reality they live in. No one is going to die. He just needs to believe that.

Keith’s cell rings, startling him. He scrambles to grab it. Lance’s name is on the caller ID. Should he pick up? What is he thinking, of course he should. Just answer and explain to Lance that he isn’t interested and Lance needs to talk to a surgeon. Right. Keith swipes to answer, “Hey Lance.”

“Hey! I’m, uh, calling you back, like I said I would.” Lance’s slightly stilted voice comes over the phone. Maybe he’s not as certain about this as Keith feared?

“Look we need to talk,” Keith says. If he was better with words, he could think of a way to soften the blow, but he’s not, so bluntness will have to do, “I don’t love you.”

There a moment's pause, then, “Yeah, I know.” Lance says.

“You do?” But then what had this all been about?

“Of course I do, mullet. We’ve been friends for how long? I know you,” Lance says, and Keith can’t believe his luck. All this worry and Lance had understood all along, “I know how loyal you are. You’d never look around while in a relationship, so how could you have developed feelings for me.”

“That’s really good to hear,” Keith says. Relief flows through him. Everything is going to be okay.

“That’s why I been taking you out,” Huh? “I had to show you what things could be like if we were together.”

“Wait what?” Keith’s brain struggles to catch up with that twist of logic, “Lance, that’s not, that’s not how…Look, I’m already dating Shiro,” He starting to sound like a broken record. This shouldn’t be so hard to explain.

“I know you are,” Lance says, in a reassuring tone that completely fails to reassure, “But are you happy with him?” Lance asks.

“Of course I am,” It’s not even a question, Shiro has made him happier than anybody else has for ages.

“Are you really, though? Because looking in, it doesn’t look that way to everyone else,” Lance says, sounding almost concerned? Does everyone else really think he’s not happy? No one has ever said anything, but then, people never come out and say what they mean.

“I am happy,” Keith says firmly.

“So you liked having to take a semester off and losing all your classmates?” Lance asks.

“Shiro needed me,” He doesn’t regret that. Being there was more important than graduating on some arbitrary date.

“You enjoy missing out on events with your friends or having to go home early,”

“It’s not that big of deal,” Keith says a little weaker, Lance makes it sound so awful.

“It doesn’t cause any stress at all when you lose sleep because of him and end up bombing a test?” Lance continues.

“That was one time,” Has Lance kept track of every problem he and Shiro ever had, “None of this matters, every relationship has some hardships.”

“But not ones that are this big! At our age a relationship hardship should be wearing ugly couples sweaters at Christmas,” Lance exclaims, building up a head of steam, “You only get to live your college years once. You should be going to parties, doing dumb things you won’t be able to get away with when your older, and you deserve to be with someone that will do those things with you!” 

There is silence in the wake of Lance’s rant. A deep breath over the phone, Lance’s next words are calmer, “Shiro has already gotten to enjoy these years, partying it up with his military buddies. You deserve the same opportunity. I just want you to see that. See the gift we’ve been given here. We deserve to be happy, Keith. Together. All you have to do is take a chance.”

“…Lance…You need to see a surgeon.” The world Lance is living in, is so far from his own. He speaks, but his words change meaning in Lance’s ears. How can he even reach him?

There a small huff of laughter, like Keith is the one who doesn’t understand, “I’m not going to give up on us. I love you, and I want you to be happy. If that means I have to wait, I’ll wait for as long as I have to.” Lance says. Ignoring everything Keith’s said.

“I’m not going to change my mind,” Keith says quietly.

“You will, and I’ll be there when you do.” There is no doubt, no hesitation.

“I need to go,” Regroup, figure out what the hell he’s going to do.

“I’ll talk to you later,” Lance says, and Keith hangs up.

He’s alone again, staring at the book he’d been reading for history. The words on the page are just ink devoid of answers. 

Lunch, he should eat lunch. Simple, easy, no thought. Maybe a solution will present itself. Maybe he’ll slip and fall and crack his skull, solving the problem that way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmm, wasn’t completely happy with some parts of this chapter, but I couldn’t really figure out a way to write them better. This chapter and the two after it were tricky all around.


	7. A Mother's Hate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith receives an unexpected visitor after Lance's call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Early post today, because I will be driving for most of the day to my dad’s. That also means, I’m not ignoring ya’ll. I just won’t see any comments and such until later. Which is a shame, because I’ve been really looking forward to sharing this.

Food doesn’t help. Neither does staring at his homework. Willing it to do itself. Lance’s words still circle in his head, never ending. Should he call Shiro? If he asked, Shiro would take off from his volunteer work and be here in the hour. No, no, nothing is going to change between now and a couple hours from now. He can handle this on his own for that long.

Maybe he should watch a show? That would take his mind off things. Something stupid and peppy where no one dies. That kills half his recommendations, but surely he can find something. Didn’t Pidge recommend a series? A show with giant robots and aliens, or something like that. That sounds like a good option to distract him.

There is a knock at the door. Keith’s freezes. It’s too early for Shiro to be off. Maybe it’s Lance? Enough time has passed, it could be him to talk over the subject again. God, he doesn’t want to open the door, but what does hiding say? Running away from his problems won’t make them disappear.

Keith braces himself and walks to the door. Undoing the deadbolt, he swings it open to reveal…Not Lance? There is a woman, older, a little shorter than him, with curly brown hair and startling blue eyes. Eyes that are puffy and rimmed with red. She’s been crying and isn’t trying to hide it.

“Are you Keith Kogane?” The woman demands.

“Yes?” Keith answers. He’s never seen this woman in his life. What does she want with him?

“How could you!” The woman storms forward, and Keith stumbles back. What in the world? “He loves you!” The woman all but yells poking Keith in the chest.

“What?” Keith says helplessly. Should he call the cops? No, no, the cops would laugh. A guy like him calling to be rescued from an angry yelling woman.

“My son loves you.” Her son? Does that mean? Oh, this must be Lance’s mother, “He loves you and you throw that in the garbage. Throw him in the garbage!” Lance’s mother gestures broadly as she speaks, thankfully giving him a few inches of space.

“Ma’am,” Because nothing brings out his southern raised manners faster than panic, “I’m-I’m not doing anything to Lance.”

“You’re Killing Him!” She shrieks, “How could, how could,” She pants, tears starting to roll down her cheeks, “How could someone my boy thinks so much of do this to him?” She raises a hand to her eyes trying to rub some of the tears away.

“Ma’am,” Keith reaches out a hand to do…something, “Do you need-”

“Don’t touch me!” The woman yells, batting Keith’s hand aside. Suddenly she’s in his face again, “If you were half the man he thought you were, you wouldn’t be doing this,” Keith is backing across the room and she matches him step for step, “You treat him like dirt, but you’re dirt. You are murdering dirt!” Keith’s back hits the wall, nowhere left to go. The woman crowds close there’s barely an inch between their faces, “If it were you, he wouldn’t hesitate, but you can’t even be bothered!” She shoves at his chest then turns and storms away. Keith’s heart is in his throat. What, what is he supposed to do?

“I came here,” She’s shaking, and Keith gets the feeling she isn’t talking about his apartment, “Because my baby called me and told me about this amazing man he knew. Someone he cared about so much, that the flowers visited him.” She’s been turned away as she speaks and Keith has relaxed, but then she’s whirling around and stomping back towards him. Keith freezes. 

“I came here to support my son. To be happy for him, but instead, I get to see him get off the phone and tell me you won’t love him.” She grabs the front of his shirt dragging him forward. Alarm paralyzes his limbs, he can’t do anything to stop her. She’s Lance’s mother, “You are a coward and a murderer. You will sit by, while my boy dies, and tell yourself it is not your fault. But know this Kogane. My son is dying by your hands as surely as if you wrung the air from his lungs yourself.”

She lets him go. Keith sinks back against the wall as she walks to the door, heart pounding. She stops. Keith goes stock-still. She turns slowly, staring him down. Keith can’t look away, “You are the one who deserves to die,” She spits, then slams the door.

He stands there dumbly, pulse rabbit quick, chest heaving as if he’d just run a mile. She’s gone. Keith’s rushing across the room, throwing the lock, hooking the latch, then backing away from the door like it could tear from its frame and bite him. What the hell. What the hell! Murderer. Killing him.

She’d been so angry. Crying. Screaming. Mourning. Lance was dying, and she knew Keith was the only one that could save him. Could and is choosing not to. No, no, no, no, no. Shiro, he needs to call Shiro. Tell him what happened, he’ll be able to help.

Keith fumbles for his phone, flipping through his contact list until he finds Shiro’s name. Press, and the phone dials. The first ring sounds, then the second, third. Shiro’s voice-mail picks up. What no, not now, this can’t be happening now. Keith dials again. Same result. Of all the times, why now?

Keith looks around, the walls are a cage, pinning him in. He needs to move, do something. He needs to get out of here now. A walk, he’ll go on a walk. He could even walk to Shiro’s. Leave his bike and move. Maybe by the time he gets there Shiro will pick up. Yes, yes, that’s a plan. That gets him away from here.

Keith’s out the door, barely remembering to grab his keys on the way out. He takes the back stairwell. The one guests never use, just in case she’s still here. What else would she say if she saw him? Go.

Keith bursts through the backdoor, out onto the street, and then he’s running.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I’m going to be gone for most the day. I’ll leave the answers to two questions I anticipate people to have here. 
> 
> No, Lance doesn’t know about this visit. She has her own car and came over on her own.
> 
> Yes, her behavior is wrong, but she is both in mourning and one of those people that doesn’t think women can abuse men. Keith’s male. In her mind that means he should be able to take whatever she dishes out. Unfortunately, when it comes to himself, Keith thinks the same way.


	8. Hurricane Lance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith runs into someone on his way to Shiro's.

There is a park between his and Shiro’s place. It’s less trees and playground equipment, than wide open spaces with a running path. The student population has laid claim to it, and you can hardly pass the place at any hour of day or without seeing some small cluster of young adults playing ultimate Frisbee or just drunkly chasing each other to and fro.

Keith’s never had reason to use it, his favorite physical activities benefit more from gym mats than grass and star gazing is an out of town pass time, but now it’s a convenient shortcut between him and his destination. Unfortunately he’s not the only one who thinks so.

Maybe Lance is right, maybe the Universe is conspiring against him right now, because he’s barely entered before he’s drawn up short by two very familiar people. None other than Hunk and Lance, casually strolling down the running path he’d decided to take.

Their backs are to him, so he’s safe for now. If he turns tail and runs they’ll be none the wiser to how close they came to contact, but something stops him. This is his first chance to observe Lance since he found out about his illness. Right now he’s not trying to put his best foot forward or convince Keith. Lance is just Lance, and Lance looks fine.

He’s talking to Hunk as if he’s never heard the term indoor voice. Laughing at a joke, Keith can’t hear. His complexion is healthy, and there are no signs to show he’s dying. Exactly how for along is the Hanahaki? Lance said a while, but that’s not exactly a useful time measurement. 

Maybe he’s not as bad as-Lance jerks to a stop. A coughing fit double Lance over, shaking with a hand to his mouth. Hunk is saying something, reaching out to support his friend, but Lance doesn’t seem to hear. His knees give out, falling to the ground back heaving, as if he can’t breathe.

Keith’s running without thinking, covering the distance between them to kneel down by his friend’s side. Up close he can hear the wheezing, see a few bloody petals already spread on the concrete. Lance isn’t getting air. The flowers lodged in his throat won’t let enough past, “Come on man you can do this,” Keith says, hand reaching out to pat his back uselessly, “You’re too stubborn of a bastard to die here,” He has to be. Keith doesn’t know the Heimlich maneuver, and an ambulance would never arrive in time.

His heaves grow harder, and maybe Keith’s words really help, because a second later, something finally breaks loose and Lance is hacking up a clump of petals to drop to the ground in front of him. Lance sucks in a deep breath and immediately coughs it back out with some more flower detritus, but his windpipe is clear. He’s going to be okay. For now.

That was too close, Lance couldn’t breathe. How often is this happening? How many times has Lance had a brush with death? Is this what sent his mother to Keith’s door?

Lance catches his breath and sits up. He spots Keith and a smile breaks out on his face, “Well what do you know, I thought I’d heard the voice of an angel. Couldn’t get me off your mind could eh?” Lance says cheekily, like flirting is somehow an appropriate response to this situation.

Keith frowns, staring down at the flowers that had so recently been trying to choke the life out of his friend. This is what Lance’s end will look like, “Lance, this has gone too far. We nearly lost you. You need to see a surgeon,” Keith says. If anything could reach him, wouldn’t a near death experience be it?

“Hey,” Lance touches Keith’s cheek. Keith startles glancing up at Lance. The softness there makes no sense, “I told you. When you love someone, nothing is more important. That means I won’t ever give up on you.” 

“Even if you die?” Keith says, but deep in his gut he already knows the answer. It’s the one that had Hunk asking Keith to give him a chance. The one that leaves Keith responsible for a mother’s tears.

“Even then,” Lance says without missing a beat.

“You’re serious aren’t you,” Keith says, but he doesn’t understand. Lance has everything going for him. A mom who loves him. Friends who will put everything on the line for him. A promising future. The social skills to make others care about him, and he’s willing to risk it all just to get Keith to date him. Why? Why make Keith decide if gets to keep all that?

“Yep,” Lance says, popping his p, and that is that. Lance has made his decision, he won’t change. Only Keith can save him, and Lance’s mother, she’s, she’s right. If he doesn’t, he’s just as guilty as if he strangled Lance with his own two hands. Standing by while he dies, when he could save him, that is just as good as murder. Who is he to do that to Lance, to all the people that love Lance?

Keith takes a deep breath, “…okay then,”

“Huh?” Lance quirks his head to the side.

“Okay, I’ll go out with you,” Six words to seal his fate and save Lance’s life.

Lance’s eyes go wide, “Really?” He says.

“Yeah..” Keith nods.

Abruptly Keith is being bowled over, he barely catches himself before he ends up flat on his back with a happy Lance on top of him. Lips are pressed against his own in an overly eager kiss, before disappearing just as fast as they came, “Oh my god, this is the best day of my life!” Lance exclaims, and he’s standing, dragging Keith along with him, “Hunk did you hear him. He said yes!” Lance turns to his best friend.

“I heard man,” Hunk says, patient to his friend’s excitability, “Congratulations.”

“There is so much I want to do. So many things I want to show you. Have you been dancing? I should take you dancing!” Lance hardly seems to breath as rattles on, wrapping an arm around Keith’s shoulders and pulling him close, “No, no, wait, I need to tell mom. She’ll be so excited! She’s wanted to meet you forever. You can come over for dinner, she’d love to cook for you.”

That’s a terrible idea, “I don’t think, she likes me.” Keith says. After their earlier meeting, even agreeing to date Lance may not be enough to abate her anger at him.

“Don’t be silly, I love you. She’ll love you too.” Lance brushes off Keith’s concerns, “You can come over tomorrow for Sunday lunch. Wait until you taste her food, you’ll never want to eat something from a microwave again.” But he likes his microwave food, it’s all food he picked for himself that he knows he’ll enjoy. Some pop song he doesn’t recognize, sounds from Lance’s pants, “Ah, hold on, that’s her now.” Lance fishes his ringing phone from his pocket, “Mom! You’ll never believe the news!” Lance steps away, to recount the last few minutes in hyper detail. Leaving Keith and Hunk to standing there, waiting for him.

Hunk glances over him, “Thanks man,” Hunk gestures between him and Lance, “For doing this.”

Keith blinks at him for a moment. His whole body feels like it’s vibrating. Whiplash, from to much to quickly, but Hunk is waiting for an answer. Keith looks away and shrugs, “I don’t want to see him die either.”

Hunk nods, “He’s a good guy, he’ll treat you right. You’ll see.” The words don’t bring as much comfort as he thinks Hunk intends them to. What does it matter how Lance treats him. He said yes to save him, what kind of boyfriend he turns out to be hardly matters.

“Alright! We are on for tomorrow.” Lance announces, walking back, “Now come on, we’ve got to snap some photos. Mom wants to see, and oh man, I need to update facebook.” Keith finds himself being tugged along into his new life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is the last chapter before I take a hiatus. I’m going to enjoy Christmas with my family. Then when I get home, I’m going to do some plotting for the last part of this story. Once I’ve got the last half of the story written, I’ll start posting again.


	9. Goodbye My Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith has to tell Shiro it is over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright folks, I’m going on Hiatus for the rest of the holidays. When I come back I should have the rest of this fic ready to post, and I will resume my once a day posting schedule. Thank you all for joining in on this ride.

Lance’s enthusiasm doesn’t dim in the oncoming hours. If anything he finds new wells of fevor to draw from. There are a dozen different spots he wants to take pictures at, a little icecream shop they have to grab desert from, and a million other things he’s been apparently planning while Keith was blissfully unaware. Keith follows along behind him, smiles when he’s cued, and tries not to drag his friend’s good mood down.

Sometime after fiftieth time Lance grabs onto his elbow and tugs Keith towards some new thing he just has to see, Keith’s cell starts ringing. Shiro’s face pops up on the caller Id. Keith hits the hangup button before it can ring twice. Lance may be on cloud nine, but Keith’s evening has been dominated with thoughts on the relationship he’s already in. The one he now has to do something about. 

Lance doesn’t do polygamy, one not so subtle question earlier had put to rest that possible solution. Keeping the relationship going behind Lance’s back, would only hurt Shiro and he’d never actually be able to keep it a secret long term. There are no other options he can see. If he’s with Lance, he has to break up with Shiro. After everything they’ve been through, all they’ve overcome, he has to end it.

Keith squeezes his eyes shut, trying to keep the emotions locked up, “What was that?” Lance’s asks leaning over his shoulder. He’s not so subtly trying to see the screen of Keith’s phone.

“Alarm,” Keith lies, shoving his cell in his pocket, “I need to get home, I have a project I need to submit.” He doesn’t want to talk about Shiro with Lance. He doesn’t want to have to listen to Lance volunteer more opinions on their relationship and suggest ways for him to end it. There are some things that are just too personal to let others butt into.

“Oh! Why don’t I come with you then, and we can hang out while you do that?” Lance says eagerly, bouncing a bit in place, “It’s been awhile since I’ve seen your place, after all.” There is a reason for that, he likes his space. If he invites people over, he can’t just leave when he’s tired of talking to them.

“I need to do homework afterward,” Keith deflects. His lies feel blatant, but Lance doesn’t seem to be catching on. Maybe he’s better at hiding things than he thought, or maybe Lance is just bad at reading him.

“I can help.” Lance volunteers, “I’ve already taken most your classes. I can answer any questions you have,” Unfortunately, Lance seems to be of the school of dating that ascribes to the in each other’s business constantly model of being together. Space doesn’t exist for him.

“I prefer to study on my own,” Not actually a lie. Nothing is worse than being mid problem and having someone interrupt his train of thought. He gets nothing done when studying with a group, “We’ll be seeing each other tomorrow.”

Lance frowns, disappointed, “I guess.” He says, “I’ll come over get you tomorrow then.” Barely a few hours, and Lance is already down because of Keith. He can’t change his mind right now. He needs some privacy for what he has to do, but damn it, he agreed to this and he’s already fucking it up. Lance steps forward and gives Keith a quick peck on the lips. Like good boyfriends are supposed to, and Keith kills his urge to cringe away, “Bye”

“Yeah, bye,” Keith waves, turning and walking away. He’ll do better in the future, he’s sacrificing too much to let Lance die just because he can’t get with the program.

-

The days have grown short with winters approach, by the time he reaches his apartment, the sun has already begun to set. It feels like some sort of metaphor for the state of his love life.

Inside, his history reading is still waiting for him. Open to a page he doesn’t remember reading, but he’s certain he has. He’ll look at it tomorrow. Sometime. 

His phone buzzes, text. Keith takes it out. It’s Lance. “Great time,” “Love you” “Can’t wait to see you,”. Guess he didn’t mess up the start as bad as he thought. He’ll have to respond, later, when it’s less likely to prompt a lengthy conversation.

Above Lance’s message is another though. Shiro had tried to do more than call him. “Saw I missed your call. Everything okay?”

His stomach plummets. Shiro. He has to tell him, but how?

The pressure that’s been building behind his eyes while he determinedly tried not to think about this while he walked, aches. If he sees Shiro in person, he’ll cry before he gets through the first sentence. If he calls him, the upset will be evident in his voice. He can’t do that. He can’t tell Shiro its over then advertise his distress. That’s asking for a comfort he doesn’t have the right to anymore. 

He can’t break up with him, if Shiro is there. Can’t face him, see the hurt, and still say the words. What is he going to do? He has to do this. Lance won’t change his mind, and Shiro. God, he’s going to be heartbroken. No don’t think about that. Shiro will be hurt, but he’ll find someone else. He’s sweet and kind, and someone else will see that and step in to take care of him. Someone with no one else chasing after them, that can be just for him.

Keith squeezes his eyes shut, presses against the lids with his fingers. Don’t cry. This has to happen. Don’t cry.

There is only one option, that will work. Shaky fingers and blurry eyes, he types in the short message. “I’m sorry. I’m dating Lance. We’re done.” He doesn’t type “Love you” or “You were good to me” or any of a dozen mitigations, because he’s not cruel. Bandaids, tear fast, don’t dither and cause more pain for hesitating.

Keith hits send and throws the cell across the room. It doesn’t shatter, doesn’t break into a million pieces. It should. Something physical should be destroyed. Some external expression for the pain in his chest, but it lands against the carpet with a small thump and Keith slides to floor.

Back to the wall, knees pulled up. Block out the world. Everything is fine. This is for the best. He’s going to be okay. His phone rings. Keith breaks. He cries.

Buzzing and ringing is the soundtrack to the growing wetspot on the knees of his jeans. Shiro trying to contact him. Shiro wondering what changed since this morning. He can’t explain. Shiro would make it better. Convince him he’s got it all wrong, and things are not as bad as they seem. But that would be temporary. He knows the truth, and he can’t hide from it. No matter how much it hurts.

Eventually his phone goes silent, but Keith does not. If anything his sobs grow harder. He’s ten again, crying for a father to make everything better that will never come.

A pounding on the door makes him jump, wide eyes, wet cheeks, he stares at the wooden block, separating him from the rest of the world.

Another heavy knock, Keith holds his breath. Trying to be quiet. It doesn’t matter who it is, he can’t speak with them right now.

“Keith,” It’s Shiro, “Keith, baby, please open the door.” Oh god, Shiro’s here. Of course he’s here. Keith isn’t answering his phone what did he expect?

“Keith, sweetheart, please,” Shiro’s voice is growing quieter, harder to hear through the muffle of the door, “If you’re here, please, talk to me.” Shiro’s voice is like a magnet. Keith finds his legs uncurling, crawling close to door. Reaching towards the knob, before he stops. No, he can’t. This is how things have to be.

Keith leans his head against the door. Shiro’s still there. He can almost hear him breathing, had he run here? Panicked and worried?

“I know you don’t want this,” Soft, not meant to carry through the door, then louder, “Keith listen to me, please. You don’t owe anyone anything. You don’t have to do this.” Yes he does, choice between killing a friend and not, is no choice at all, “

The silence drags on once again. A wooden barrier all that separates him from comfort and the illusion of guiltlessness.

Something scrapes against the door. Shiro’s sliding down, to sit on the other side, “I can’t stop you, but I want you to know. I’m here for you. I don’t care how long. If you ever need me. Call, I’ll come get you.” He shouldn’t promise that. Shiro should give up and go home, but he won’t. He never would.

Keith falls asleep pretending he can hear Shiro’s heartbeat through the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been looking forward to this scene. Couldn't get the idea of Keith having a breakdown while Shiro tried to get in contact with him out of my head. Which is why you guy got to see it before the Hiatus. Hope ya'll enjoy your Christmas holidays!


End file.
